Recommend me a book!
I like books, and I want to know which ones noders like. Which books changed your view on the world, or made you laugh or cry? Or are just awesome? Let me know!
Nodeshell of the moment: Death is inevitable anyway. Eat up.
I think I may have fallen in love with a writing style.
September 19, 2006: 1000 xp
November 2, 2006: Level 3, mysteriously.
December 28, 2007: Level 4, with the new Writeup Bonus System. br>November 20, 2008: Level 5, with the new level system.
(I like nodeshells. Tell me if you fill 'em.)
| And, as for me, I bless everyone who kissed you here | I take for granted that you just don't care | If you're not having fun, you're not doing it right | Such knowledge would do nothing more than haunt your dreams and frustrate your days | Even if they're really good friends, you shouldn't trust a couple hundred friends with your secrets | Where are all the menstrual huts when you need them? | A fine mess you've gotten me into | You'll never get away with this! | i can tell you the dreaming up north is real and wide | You saw the witchery, you saw the madness | I won't tell you the real reason why I hate you, but I'll tell you another which is just as good | It's likely you'll change | you were nothing but lips | You are at the beginning of your next trillion years, and you can spend it with us, or you can spend it curled up and shivering. | A Hangover You Don't Deserve | Nobody is perfect forever, you lasted a long time. | I will make your oppressors eat their own flesh and they shall be drunk with their own blood like wine | It's the impurities that let you party with the shadow people | You have won second place in a beauty contest! Collect $10. | Speak now, or forever hold your peace | imagine that you are the weather in the tiny snowglobe of this song | I still know what you did last summer | Drink yourself to hobo heaven! | Gee, You're so Beautiful That It's Starting to Rain | Stop here or you will kill two people | The shadow is going away. You can breathe again. The past is closed. | You suckers still fucking node, but your noding wisdom. My bad. | If You're Feeling Sinister | you should pay rent in my mind | If you can't improve the silence, preserve it | You are a dreamy nodeshell just waiting to happen | Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my angel? | It is a strange thing to wake up every day and do things you care nothing about | No one will ever love you for your honesty | drop your slogans and drop your pants. proceed naked from this existence. | Would you really feel any pity if one of those dots stopped moving forever? | may your knife chip and shatter | jealousy, which has been a sort of game you played with yourself, now grips you relentlessly. | You were talk, talk, talkin' in circles that day | tiny jesus is playing with mice behind an old can in your cupboard | If at all possible read this book with your eyes shut. | wrinkles are symptoms of deeper structural flaws. just listen, your skull is cracking, breaking | You can have great armfuls of just such roses as these. | Open your eyes. Become bigger. It hasn't killed you, and it's making you stronger | Having children makes you no more a parent than having a piano makes you a musician | You can't unscramble scrambled eggs | What were you expecting? Once the process of falsification is set in motion, it won't stop. | You will have no doubt and the sky will turn to gold | You cannot be in love with every beautiful thing you see | kindled honesty placed on scales; your hands | Your name is a synonym with betrayal, and I will curse it till the day I die |
| I learned something new from this node | What I don't know I can't reveal under torture | As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off. | I used to be that girl. | I have no scars. I have never loved. | On second thought, maybe I'd rather be dangerous | sleep doesn't take me far enough. | Kisses on my shoulder like little stars sparkling | There is poetry in my soul, but I keep it on a short leash | Stories I Have Tried to Write | I only relax in the dentist's chair | I am tired of trying to be good conversation | When I said too much I wasn't kidding. | Gods I hope I never have to write such filth again | look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid | Mark my words | So I'm just a girl on the doorstep to your room | read my hips | 'ere I am, J. H. | The taste in my mouth after a nap | Hello, My Name is Scrambled Eggs | In my day | Work like you don't need the monkey | And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for you meddling kids! | No point in mentioning the bats, I thought. Poor bastard will see them soon enough. | My turn signal is not a request | I want daisy chains and lazy bees and the smell of rain. | Here is my father, here is something I regret | I read my life story twenty times a day | So there is death in my voice; what of it? | My subconscious is much smarter than I will ever be | I didn't read it but I want to get into the author's pants | As long as it falls directly from your hand to mine I don't really care what it is | I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore | I hope I get old before I die. | The whole world is too busy, and I am hopelessly bound to my wonderment | That which does not kill me ... ah, screw it, it's gonna kill me eventually | I'm afraid, I thought, I'm too afraid to jump, I'm a coward, and at that moment I jumped | I've been living my life half asleep | I see it on the TV and I laugh out loud, but it's the way I feel right now. | There is a family in me somewhere and some days it tries to tickle its way out. | I never remembered my dreams until they started being about you | I do not lift pencils for art, but for words | You think I'll cry? I won't cry! My heart will break before I'll cry. | I do not like the sky night or day and keep my eyes on the yellow lines heading under the car | [I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky! | the sky above me like a full recovery |
| What do we want? Nothing. When do we want it? Whenever. | It's been a night shift of a life for us all. | Let's blow this popsicle stand | All sparks and melting everything around us | While they were revolting, we grew nostalgic | Our strange attractors | We trained the lions not to weep | We would rather drown in a sea of tears than alter our beliefs. | We are as real as the difference that we make | Before the kids and the mortgage, we drove fast cars with the top down | We Are History | Have we done enough to be saved? | Controlled by fear and yet calling ourselves free | Sometimes we dreamers just get in the way | Perverse pride in the austerity of our times | if one of us should flicker and vanish, mid-drag, don't bat an eye. claim a spot on the curb and never give an inch. | For every delayed technology there is a sudden, completely unexpected advance that jumps at us from the shadows | it wasn't the terrorism that flung us apart, it was the pigeons | The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves | Look where all this talking got us, baby | Let's get milk faced and hum like rabbits | Listen, we ended up ruined. I find my answers where I can. | Let's just call it love and split the difference. | each book has us creating a fresh work as we read it into being | We live in an age of irony | Happy endings are not our birthright. | Let's run away to where the shooting stars fall and meet them when they land | The game we play is life, and there are no rules save the ones we make | The clouds found us, under the sky eating up streets | We said nay, we are but men |
| him, who had lent me a beautiful hat | It was a reasonable chat, I let him have it alone | I was trying to show him my insides, you know. I like to share. | He is honest and forthright with strangers. He reserves his lies for his family | When he was little, he laughed in his sleep. | I didn't love him until I feared I would lose him. One does not love breathing. | He asks, anxious to hear the story | In the end, he could quiet his mind only by dying | Kill the Man Who Questions | What's He Building? | Behind every great man is a shadow | War is hell but men like it | Leave him in an empty room with a tape recorder | Mr. Universe | Mr Right | an honest man is always in trouble | I think this boy's cheese has done slid off his cracker | Newton under a tree, dreaming | Don't believe the florist when he tells you that the roses are free. | Victor Hugo once got so mad he threw a baseball through a dog | His love was enormous; it cleared rooms that desperately wanted to be full. | one kid against the fence, scuffed shoes, probably a trumpet case at his feet | His mind went blank against the flesh next to him |
| i clung to her cloak. (or flew) | she didn't believe in kissing outside of art | She spent most of the day sleeping in my shirt pocket | she spent the night gingerly peeling me off the moon. | She had fingernails that shined like justice | She's found the hole in reality. She knows its depth. | The endless blue sky is not big enough to hold her memories, so it doesn't | there's nothing quite as wonderful to me as the assorted scars of a woman who's too busy reading to watch where she's walking | All that’s left of her is black print | She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets | And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside | Find a seashell in the shape of a girl | This child has talent. She needs a better box of paints. | My preconceived view of perfection could not accommodate her. | sunset rainwater turns her sidewalk chalk-art into a sherbert delight; a surprise gift from chaos that tumbles her like tinkling bells onto the wet grass | A lady in public and a whore in the bedroom | The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart | And her legs went on forever, like staring up at infinity | Woman's so hot I want to cry | Never understimate the power of a woman with no specific purpose | All the Anxious Girls on Earth | The Woman, naked | She is what happens when silence makes love with night. | It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does? | She may be pretty and have more money than me but she doesn't write songs about you. | I will have her forever but I can't touch her | I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful | She is the branches, you are the trunk | I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell. | A tentative laugh, she expected to be interrupted | She left me on the boardwalk with my head held in my hands. | She is the ocean. | She handed me my first sharpened pencil. | She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them. | She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines | He scribbled with black crayon all over my fairy tale books. |
| know it all | Let sleeping gods lie | If God has a dwelling place, it is in libraries | Pray to God, and keep rowing to shore | God is not dead; He is merely unemployed. | The Devil is just the Angel that asked for more | Three Puerto Rican girls walked by like accordion music under the trees, looking like they'd accept nothing less than perfection. | Those who are as a light in the darkness shall ever be troubled by moths | Butterflies are passive aggressive and put their problems on the shelf, but they're beautiful | Too many people say nothing when they mean "I love you" | There is likely no one left who remembers | How to be the best goddamn superhero ever? | When over 95% of its people endure unspeakable torture daily, Planet Earth is officially known as a prison | If not for bras there would be far too little between men and breasts. | a moron in a hurry | Of diamonds and those that have them | living legend | Too many people say nothing when they mean "I love you" | The Happy Frog | Cosmic Cow | The corpse smiles back | They try to be quiet but you know they are there with their weird coppery breath. | underachiever | budoka | Ignore them. They're just jealous. | Dragon and the Knight | They might not need me - yet they might - | two half discovered people, halfway to tears. | Every angel is terrible | Who shouted with glee when the colour blue was born? | For Leslie, who runs through this book like a river | Tell people they're beautiful and they will change the world |
| come to think of it, phone calls are excruciating too. | Take an object. Do something to it. Do something else to it. | Report card comments | That afternoon in amber, or dipped in gold and left on the mantle | floats, skips, and loops, and unbelievable long shots full of disappointment | The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel | Polar bears are nothing like penguins. | what happened wasn't necessarily an accident | coat of arms | The most important part of any feature is the ability to turn it off | A jar full of fireflies | We are the flies in the jar | Nothing is too wonderful to be true | The Internet Public Library | Blue lights go for miles | beautiful lie | Winter's Heart | mental inventory | that not-so-fresh feeling | Student Loan | There is already a perfectly good word for this | long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days | Good fire | Revenge of the Old Queen | This is family. This is forever. | Sideways Stories from Wayside School | Italian food for the lousy cook | What's Love Got to Do with It | sometimes noise becomes music | It's easier to drink on an empty stomach than to eat on a broken heart | life's most inexplicable gifts are often greeted unjustly | the best things in life cost large amounts, and the currency isn't always money | all of these questions need answering | Candlelight is the answer to every question | This note is tender and private | What's this? - A dead one of these. | there are some things that can only be said at the top of a ferris wheel | Shopping for groceries like a seven-year-old kid | Don't go, don't change, stop always being the same. | it feels good until you stop | The train's heart is big and black, but it cries to lonely sky | Kissing is more like pie tasting than kissing | Make something beautiful, no matter how ugly the steps in making it are | Paper, rock, scissors. They all have their pros and cons. |
| 8 Simple Rules ... For Dating My Teenage Daughter | photobucket | Bovine Growth Hormone | Graduation Portfolio | Bathing suit | Potato peeler | tanning salon | Good luck charm | bragging rights | double-edged sword | peace offering | ugly duckling | swear word | cellulite | magic beans | fruit cup | Dinosaurs | two left feet | Golden Apples | Energy Drink |
| Out of place | when the revolution comes | The prettiest views are all from the ground up | bumper to bumper | Craigellachie | 1026 | 1120 | 1119 | 1121 | 1152 | 1196 | 1217 | 1225 | 1298 | 1333 | 1339 | 1420 | 1545 | 1845 | June 25, 1950 | 1990 | middle ground | Dry spell | Highway to Hell | The Common Room of the Gods | western states that look like empty calendar squares | The United States of Canada | Padua | Aruwimi | Kanazawa |
| This whole business about saying hello and saying goodbye is tiresome. | Following the path of least resistance is what makes the river crooked. | Any house can become a prison | Better luck next time | pacifist | left-wing | right-wing | give a damn | good intentions | Mental Note | neck of the woods | on the blink | Sugar-coated | take the cake | Speak softly and carry a big stick | pinpoint | If ifs and ands were pots and pans there'd be no work for tinkers | ROFLMAO | Picture a cup, empty, in the middle of the sea. | The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing. | The buck stops here | The Dragon's Retort | Chess With A Dragon | wisdom is wasted on the wise | Questions will be asked- AND DESTROYED! BY ANSWERS! | Which leads the better life, the queen ant the worker ant or the drone ? | It hurts to breathe. | kid = candy shoppe | How to be found | unforgivable | More than meets the eye | Happy as a hobbit in a hole | A line allows progress, a circle does not | None of these are permanently scarred. | To look is not to see | Punk's not dead, it just isn't feeling well | The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak | there is no right answer to the wrong question | take a picture, it'll last longer | In praise of experienced lovers | Resistance is futile | Life is a clique | Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose | Everything's gonna be right as rain | Silence means approval | silence like a cancer grows | Brevity is the soul of lingerie | One measures a circle, beginning anywhere | Death is inevitable anyway. Eat up. | how does it feel to be carried out to the trash? | No one paints landscapes full of tumbleweeds |